


Care

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Wrapping up loose ends, Jester talks to Caleb about his death.





	Care

When Caleb wakes up the night after the ogre ambush, there’s a horned head in his lap, and that by itself isn’t unusual. Mollymauk has been overly clingy and affectionate since the first ambush, so far before Zadash, and Caleb is  _ used _ to that. Molly, usually, lies  _ over _ Caleb, but he has slept upright against the wheel of the cart, Molly’s coat flung over him from the night before, so it makes sense that the only viable Caleb pillow would be his thighs- everywhere else is too vertical or too boney.    
Molly can stand Caleb’s shoulders only a few minutes before he has to move, it’s like sleeping on rocks.   
There’s a horn digging in to the softest part of his leg when he comes to, and he doesn’t bother opening his eyes before he’s ready, he’s accustomed to stroking through Molly’s hair of a morning. So he pats, lightly, at the head on his leg, strokes fingertips over keratin of horns, and he’s still sleepy enough that it takes a moment to realise.   
There’s no chains under his fingers.   
Then, by that logic, two choices-

The first, Molly has  _ actually taken his fucking advice _ and taken his chains off before sleeping, so that Fjord and Caleb don’t have to spend an hour carefully untangling the strands of Molly’s hair from his jewellery in the morning.

The second, this is not Molly.

And really, he considers, as he blinks his eyes into focusing and looks down at Jester, he  _ probably _ should have guessed that by the temperature. Molly is cooler than Caleb, yes, but he’s still  _ warm _ , and Jester is not. Her skin is cold to the touch, seeping his warmth away through Molly’s rain-soaked coat.   
Last he’d checked, though, Jester was sleeping under the cart to stay dry. And she still is, sort of, halfway under, only the top half of her body exposed to the rain, stretched over Caleb’s legs.   
She stirs, slowly awakened by Caleb brushing over her horns, because he hasn’t stopped, for some reason.   
She burrows closer, at first, away from the rain and closer to Caleb’s soft, squishy warmth, so he holds Molly’s heavy coat up over her, like a tent, as best he can until her eyes blink open and his arm aches.   
“Oh, fuck.” Is the first thing Jester says as she scrambles up to her knees in the damp morning, then, “Caleb!”   
She jerks toward him as he drops Molly’s coat back down, like she’s going to hug him, her hair wet and plastered to the side of her face. She stops, halfway there, and pats his shoulder instead. Caleb smiles to her, a little tired, and she slips from her excitable smile to serious as she tugs the hem of his shirt up and inspects the javelin wound from the previous evening. It’s a pale, slightly raised circle, pucker marks at the edges, but it’s healed over as though it happened weeks ago.   
The power of second-level spells and a good night’s sleep, she supposes.   
“Does it hurt?” She asks, pressing gently, and Caleb wriggles under her,   
“It doesn’t  _ hurt _ , but I am a little uncomfortable with you under my shirt.” Caleb says, frankly, and Jester’s grin returns, she looks up at him and he shifts again,  _ more _ uncomfortable now, with that glint in her eyes.    
“Whatever you are thinking,” He says, quietly, “Do  _ not. _ ”   
She sits back, rocks on her heels as she ponders it.   
“Fine, okay!” She concedes, eventually, and stands, “Just make sure to dry Molly’s coat, he won’t be happy to find it damp!”   
He tries to protest, to tell her it was  _ given _ to him, but she’s off and skipping away to Yasha’s side, who puts an arm around her shoulders, a little awkwardly.   
Caleb sighs and stands up.   
Best dry the coat off, then.

 

Molly’s coat looks so much better on Caleb, or so the wizard decides, when Molly dumps it over his shoulders  _ again _ in the dingy dark underground rooms of the swamp, leaning up against the wall of Caleb’s room with Nott at the other end of the bed.   
“I worry for Jester.” Caleb says, softly, to Molly. Molly cuddles him closer, hums so that Caleb feels it through the top of his head where Molly rests his cheek. It’s a questioning hum more than anything else, and Caleb pushes up just to get closer.   
“After the ogres, she was laid on my legs when I woke up. I- I did not, really, consider, that our plan may have affected you… the way that it did.”   
Molly turns and kisses his temple, slow and firm.   
“It never occured to you that we would really care if you died.” He translates, pulls from between the lines of Caleb’s own words, and Caleb gulps down the sudden lump in his throat at Molly reading him so well.   
“Yes.” He says, hoarse and threatened with tears, and Molly  _ sighs _ . Caleb feels fingers, brushing up his neck and to his jaw, presses at the side until he turns.   
And then Molly kisses him with the same slow, firm pressure as his temple, but the grip that Molly slips to his shoulder is almost bruisingly tight, and then it  _ is _ bruisingly tight, and there will be marks in the morning, but that’s okay. It’s appealing, actually, the idea of Molly marking him as  _ his _ , firmly, because words are easy, but marks are harder to forget.    
(Not that Caleb can  _ literally _ forget either, but the meaning is easier lost with Caleb’s disposition.)   
Molly tugs his hair, gently, just enough to draw Caleb’s attention back to him, and pull a shocked trill from him.   
Molly chuckles so much that he has to break the kiss, leans in to Caleb as he laughs, muffles the sound with Caleb’s shoulder, and Caleb wraps him up into his arms and buries his head in the crook of Molly’s neck.   
“How long do you think that you can stay?” He asks, quietly, and kisses Molly’s shoulder to punctuate, “Before you have to return to Fjord?”   
“Not much longer.” Molly admits, “Fjord worries when he wakes up to an empty room, and I’ve left the door unjammed.”   
They withdraw to the basic point of embrace, and Caleb is smiling, so Molly calls that a win.   
“Keep the coat tonight.” Molly tells him, and Caleb looks him up and down,   
“What if somebody sees you in the hall?”   
“Not the first time everyone here will have seen my ass.” Molly grins, and kisses Caleb briefly, leaves his smile behind on Caleb’s face.   
He stands, and leaves, and when he’s gone, Caleb curls back up into bed with Molly’s coat scrumpled in his arms, so that he can smell the faint lavender that follows Molly wherever he goes.

 

Jester actually catches his arm early in the next morning, when they’re all still pottering between rooms, and Molly has disappeared into Yasha’s room for  _ casual conversation _ . Bullshit, as Caleb knows, they’re just in it to intimidate Febron a little more, but that’s where Molly is. So Caleb is wearing his coat and on his way up to the bar when Jester catches his arm and presses her finger to her lips to hush away the protest, she tugs him back into the room she’d shared with Kiri and Beau the night before and closes the door behind her.   
Kiri and Nott are busy in Caleb’s room. Nott teaching Kiri the most basic of dagger moves, just enough to keep her safe, Caleb could hear them chattering to one another in Nott’s voice before the door shut behind them.   
He sits on the bed and waits as Jester wanders around the room, straightening things up, he can tell she’s preparing to speak but doesn’t know  _ what _ yet.   
Eventually, she comes and sits beside him on the bed.   
“Does this happen to be an explanation for you sleeping on me the other night?” Caleb half-teases, a somewhat sad smile.   
Jester shoves him so hard he goes sprawling off of the bed.   
“You  _ died _ !” It’s a screech, and she stops quickly and takes a deep, deep breath. And tries again, “You died. And you didn’t get up again. And it would have been my fault for not getting to you quick enough.”   
Caleb’s expression clouds with guilt,   
“We should have warned you.” He says quietly, and Jester nods hard,   
“Yes! You should have! Why didn’t you? When you- you heard me  _ scream _ Caleb. I cried for you.”   
Caleb’s hand moves instinctively to his cheek, as though to wipe away tears that aren’t there.   
“I- I didn’t expect you to… care.” He tells her, voice still quiet, as though admitting it pains him, “I did not expect any of you to care. I didn’t expect Beau to care, I didn’t expect you to care, and Molly-”   
“Did you consider Molly, by the way?” Jester interrupts, and flicks the tall collar of Molly’s coat, “He considered you, obviously. Do you know that he loves you?”   
Caleb pauses.   
“I didn’t. Until he kissed me.”   
That has Jester’s expression changing, from stormy to sunny, she gives a squeak of pride and excitement,   
“Oh, finally? Beau owes me five gold, we’ve been taking bets. She thought it would be longer, something about you not allowing yourself the nice things in life.”   
Caleb winces. Beau has him down far too well.   
“Well, I did not have much of a choice with Mollymauk.” And a smile, “I am grateful for that, at least.”   
Jester leans in and wraps her arms around his shoulders, and  _ squeezes _ , very, very hard. At least three bones crackle and pop before she lets go.   
“Don’t die again, okay?” Jester says, meeting Caleb’s eyes before he can look away, “We like having you around, Caleb! We care!”   
“I… I know.” Caleb replies, and shocks himself.   
It’s the truth.


End file.
